


Touch & Silence

by BearWithAHat



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Hair Brushing, Hair Kink, M/M, Self-Reflection, Sexual Tension, Two homies vibing with feelings, playing with hair, there's nothing explicit but like whew chile it borders on the edge, very subtle d/s undertones, weird metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:35:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23580166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BearWithAHat/pseuds/BearWithAHat
Summary: Marcus finds he has a strong liking for Antonio's hair.
Relationships: Marcus Ericsson/Antonio Giovinazzi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Touch & Silence

**Author's Note:**

> This was really just an excuse for me to ramble on about gio's hair, which is probably the best hair in sports. Partially inspired by a scene from the 1987 film Maurice, which only lasted a couple seconds but was *chefs kiss*

Marcus gazed down at the man sitting in front of him. He was sitting on the cheap couch in his driver room, with Antonio sitting between his knees on the floor. 

The two of them had come to enjoy sitting with one another after busy days, race weekends, or just when feeling down. Often they would simply sit next to each other, sometimes leaning on the other or holding hands. Occasionally they'd listen to quiet opera music or ramble on about whatever had them feeling drained. They had somewhat of an unspoken agreement that it didn't really mean anything, just a way for two friends to support each other, even if it seemed a bit unorthodox.

Today they sat in silence, no music and very little conversation. Antonio crossed his arms and leaned back into Marcus as the Swede curiously looked over his hair. It was tied back in its usual ponytail, and Marcus found himself wondering what it felt like. He reached out and began to absentmindedly fiddle with the ends of the ponytail. The curls were soft to his touch, and after a few minutes Marcus slowly pulled the hair tie out.

Antonio closed his eyes as his hair fell from the tie, cascading around his neck and just barely touching his shoulders. It framed his face perfectly in the Swede's opinion. Marcus began carding his fingers through it. The Italian's hair was smooth, and his fingers met little resistance as they parted the strands. He brushed through it for a while, and Antonio sighed softly when Marcus ran his fingers along the top of his head.

Marcus didn't know why, but he felt a desire to keep drawing noises from the man under his hands. He kept running his fingers lightly across Antonio's scalp and downwards through the ends of his curly hair. Soon the only sounds filling the room was the soft mewling from Antonio, and it made Marcus's thoughts lose control. 

There was something very satisfying about knowing that he was the one causing it, that he was in control at the moment. It wasn't that he was a dominating person, that just simply wasn't in his nature, it was more like Antonio was willingly submitting himself to Marcus's hands, and something about that pleased Marcus more than he thought it would. He kept stroking the Italian's silky hair, his breath catching in his throat when Antonio inaudibly moaned as he tugged gently on a strand. An idea suddenly came to him.

"Can I braid your hair?" he asked in a hushed voice. Antonio nodded, tilting his head back to make eye contact for a brief second. He looked content with what was happening and Marcus couldn't help but smile down at him, brushing his cheek with the back of his hand affectionately.

Antonio straightened up again and shifted back closer to Marcus, who parted his knees further, to let him have better access to his hair. Marcus inhaled deeply and sectioned off a lock of hair before carefully dividing it into three separate strands. He began to cross the strands of dark hair over each other in succession, focused on making it neat as if his life depended on it. 

When the strands got too short for him to braid any longer, he looked at his work for a moment before undoing it, brushing Antonio's hair back into place with his fingers once more. Antonio placed a hand on his knee, and Marcus leaned down to rest his cheek on top of his head, squeezing his eyes shut. His hands travelled down to the Italian's shoulders, rubbing any tension away before roaming over his chest, embracing him tightly. Both of Antonio's hands came to cover his, and the two of them sat holding each other like this for a while.

A single tear ran down Marcus's cheek. He turned to bury his nose in Antonio's hair, inhaling the sweet scent of whatever brand of shampoo the man used. They both told themselves that the time they spent together like this didn't have any deeper or romantic meaning, but Marcus didn't know how much longer he could keep lying to himself, and more importantly to Antonio.

The Swede relished every moment they spent like this. The quiet touches and sighs they shared with one another always flowed into his mind when he was alone with the help of his hand in the middle of the night. It never went beyond cuddling and holding hands, but Marcus wanted to do anything and everything that Antonio would let him do. Antonio was the only one he had eyes for, the only one he could see himself with.

Marcus unwrapped his arms from around Antonio and stroked his hair again. He found that pulling on it got the most verbal responses from Antonio, though he never dared to pull sharply. The noises were more harmonious than any of the music they had listened to together, more holy to him than the echoes of the choir in a cathedral. It sent shivers down his spine. Experimentally, he leaned down to nuzzle his nose against Antonio's neck, continuing to grip his hair.

Whether he intentionally did it or not, Antonio tilted his head to expose himself more to the Swede. Marcus exhaled slowly, his lips mere centimeters away from the soft skin. The gasp Antonio let out when it ghosted across his skin was a death sentence to Marcus's restraint. He decidedly pressed his lips to Antonio's neck in a searing kiss. When he met no resistance, he trailed more kisses down the Italian's neck and shoulder, only stopping when he encountered the neckline of his shirt.

Eventually Marcus pulled away and wiped the remnants of his tears from his cheek. He watched as Antonio stood up and then sat next to him, bringing a hand up to Marcus's shoulder. The Italians cheeks were flushed pink and his hair was strewn about.

"Marcus," he began quietly.

"Yeah?" Marcus responded, hoping he wasn't about to get in trouble.

"Do you want to kiss me?" Antonio asked earnestly.

"Yes."

The next thing Marcus could comprehend was burning lips pressed to his. He kissed back, relieved, his eyes fluttering shut. They parted for a brief moment before meeting again, more desperate and deeper than the first time. Marcus fisted one hand in the fabric of Antonio's shirt and carded the other one through his hair, feeling Antonio moan softly into his mouth as he tugged gently. The subtle vibrations sent heat through Marcus's entire body. He shifted forward to push himself into Antonio's lap.

As they continued to kiss one another blindly, Marcus gradually pushed him down onto the couch so that they were lying down, legs tangled up with each other.

They fit into each other like a hook and eye. In that moment, Marcus was aware of nothing else except the man underneath him and the taste of his lips. They were merely two brushstrokes of a painting, blending together in a picture that maybe couldn't be seen immediately up close, but came together and made sense when viewed from afar. In his mind, they were not two people but rather two stars colliding in the impossibly vast expanse of the universe, beyond earthly jurisdiction. Nothing existed to Marcus except Antonio.

Everything about him was intoxicating and Marcus was under the influence, eagerly drinking in more of the Italian. The feeling of hands running up his back made him shudder again. At one point, he sat up, straddling Antonio's thighs. He looked down and the sight brought a smile to his face. Antonio was gazing up at him dearly, his parted lips reddened from kissing Marcus. His long hair, which Marcus had so dutifully lavished attention to earlier, was spread out on the surface of the couch. It was like something straight out of Marcus's dreams; he wondered for a second if any of this was really happening.

Marcus fervently leaned down to press their lips together again. He knew that there was definitely a conversation to be had between them, although he felt rather confident that they hadn't much need for words at the moment.

After all, actions speak louder than words, and what they were acting upon was beyond words.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little messy and all over the place but I had fun with it :) the majority of this was written from 2-4 am, but lets hope its still decent.
> 
> you can find me on Tumblr @esteboo-ocon if you want to reach out and chat or give me some ideas to write! I'd really appreciate it :D


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